The Budgen Are Always Within Earshot

While pouring rootbeer in frosty mugs and placing cookies and sour-cream glazed donuts on plates for our Thursday editorial meeting, the girl in the photo began to speak. It had been more than a week since we had last heard her. At first we thought she was calling to us, but we soon realized she was reciting a poem. She whispered the verses of the poem over and over again... her words filling the office with an uneasy chill. Hairs on arms and backs of necks stood up straight. Our Staff Villain turned up the heat, but it didn't help.

The Budgen grow under rotting wood

In garbage cans, in sewers... where nothing else should

They gobble up children who like to be rude

Who have no manners, who don't eat their food

The Budgen use ketchup and mustard and spice,

They accompany their meals with a sidedish of rice

The Budgen are everywhere and always within earshot

Say your 'pleases' and 'thank yous' or else you'll get caught

They'll take you in the night; they'll take you in the day

If you've done something bad they'll whisk you away

To a place called NEVERAGAIN where all that survives

Is darkness and shadows and the red glowing eyes

Of scavengers that feast on leftovers and regrets

On rollerskates and running shoes, teddy bears and barrettes

If you don't want to lose everything, it must be understood

There's only one way to be... Be good! Be good! Be good!

I had never heard of the Budgen before and from the sound of it, having not heard of them was probably a good thing. The Budgen instantly reminded me of the Anklebiters, the vile creatures I wrote about that are constantly at rest in the spaces between walls, waiting for the moment a child slips up and tells a lie. Unlike the Anklebiters, the Budgen apparently have no boundaries... and that, my friends, is a scary thing, because no matter where you are, whether it is the top of a mountain, or down at the bottom of the sea (with the help of SCUBA gear, of course), if you are bad, the Budgen will catch you.

"Ahhh, but I've done some very bad things in my life," our Staff Villain said. "And I'm still here."

"The poem says those wretched creatures gobble up children," Poinsettia said and shivered. "Not aging villains with moustaches that went out of style decades ago."

"Yes, but some of the worst things I've ever done were when I was a child," our Staff Villain proudly declared."And I think my moustache is very stylish, thank you very much."

"Perhaps the Budgen are like the Anklebiters," I said. "They are completely harmless to you... until you know about them."

"Ignorance is bliss," Ogilvy said and smiled, then frowned as the girl in the photo began to recite the poem again.

"Did the Budgen get you?" I asked her as I picked up the picture frame. "Are you in NEVERAGAIN?"

"Be good," she whispered. "Be good. Be good."

I wanted to be good. I wanted to help her like she had asked me to... but there was nothing I could do. I had no idea where to start. I looked at the girl in the photo and I said in a very unsure voice, "What do you want me to do?" She sucked in a deep breath. I assumed she was about to recite the poem again, which she eventually did, but something strange occurred just before the her first words came out. Her eyes shifted and she glanced at a wall beside her. I would have missed it had I not been staring at her so intently. I asked the staff if they had noticed it and they all shook their heads.

We had been so consumed with who the girl in the photo was we had paid no attention to her surroundings. At a glance, it looked like she was in a poorly lit room covered in ugly wallpaper, but at a closer look you could see that the walls of the room were actually painted in graffiti and that the floor was covered in dirt and weeds. I grabbed my magnifying glass and took an even closer look. On the wall beside the girl were two spray-painted circles side by side. One was far larger than the other. The larger of the two was spray painted blue. The smaller was yellow. I turned the frame 45 degrees and I gasped. The circles were identical to the circles in the Hartz and Lungz Worldwide logo.

"Be good," the girl said and froze, becoming a photo once again. I was sure she had emphasized the word 'good,' but that could have just been my imagination playing tricks on me. It didn't matter, though. Hartz and Lungz Worldwide was involved somehow and I now had the proof. Luckily, last week's recycling hadn't been taken out yet. Upon my request, Ogilvy retrieved the box the frame had arrived in. I scanned it for a web address or a phone number and found both. Our Staff Villain tossed me a phone and I dialed. Poinsettia grabbed a notepad and pen and placed it down on the desk in front of me. No one had to say a word. We were all connected.

After the third ring a woman named Barb answered. I asked her if she knew anything about the package that had been sent to me last week. "Just one little second," she said. I heard a lot of clicking and clacking as she began typing on her computer. I heard bubble gum popping and toes tapping, and then I heard her say, "Huh."

"Mr... was it the Narrator?" she said. "I've opened up every folder and peeked into every file on this here computer. It doesn't look like anything has ever been shipped to you from Hartz and Lungz Worldwide."

"That's a little unbelievable," I said. "I'm holding a box with your contact information all over it."

"Well, isn't that a nose scratcher," she said. "Can you recall the name of the delivery person? Maybe he... or she can clear this whole wing dang of a kerfuffle up for us."

The name was on the tip of my tongue. I had to put Barb on hold while I went to my computer and found my last blog entry. If you receive a strange package, you're going to talk about everything involved with the arrival of that package, right? I knew I had talked about the delivery person in the blog entry and as soon as it loaded up on my screen, the man's name was staring back at me. DIBLEY.

I picked up the phone and said, "DIBLEY. His name is DIBLEY."

There was more clicking and clacking and popping and tapping, and yes, there was even another, "Huh."

"Hartz and Lungz Worldwide does not employ anyone named DIBLEY, first name or last," Barb said. "In fact, Hartz and Lungz Worldwide has never employed anyone named DIBLEY, first or last."

"Well now," I said, "that certainly is a head scratcher."

"Certainly is," Barb said. "Huh. You know, I saw a package leave here the other day for a town called DIBLEY. Maybe there was some sort of mixup. Anyhow, I'm so sorry Hartz and Lungz Worldwide couldn't be of more assistance to you. Though we couldn't help you this time we do hope you think about Hartz and Lungz the next time you need a package delivered. Once you experience our superior service, you'll see that you can't live without us."

The line went dead. One thought ran through my mind. DIBLEY. I ran back to my computer and typed DIBLEY into the search bar. Barb was right. DIBLEY was a town and it was about a day's drive from the CTQ office. I called up WONDERFUL WILL'S WINNEBAGOS and rented the same Winnebago we had last winter when we embarked on our cross-country journey. Wonderful Will said it would be returned in a day. He also insisted he vacuum it out and give it a nice wash before we take it. No wonder they call him 'Wonderful.'

I picked up the frame with the picture of the girl in it. "I don't know if you can hear me," I said, "but you told me you needed my help and I hope that's what I can give you. We're heading to DIBLEY tomorrow. So please try to stay safe for a couple more days. We're going to find you."

As I placed the frame back down on the desk I was sure I saw the girl smile. But only for a moment.